To Maratay
by domino.dice
Summary: In a tavern, Jack reveils to Will that he's goin' looking for Will's father with the crew of the Black Pearl, for Bootstrap Bill was already dead when they sent him to the bottom of the sea, and he had years to find his way to the surface.
1. Skeleton Crew

Ahem. If you have any questions of terminology, give me a shout.  
  
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Isle of Maratay  
  
1 Skeleton Crew  
  
'...er ...savvy?'  
  
'Brrraa! Nav to the helm, nav to the helm.'  
  
'...Yes.'  
  
'My guess is as good as yours, cap'n, but my guess is that means "lead on".'  
  
'Then that must be my guess too. Excuse me for a moment, mister Gibbs, mister Cotton.' Captain Jack Sparrow turned around calmly and walked a few patient steps and then broke into a run. 'Jack, you give that BACK!'  
  
He chased after the little monkey, who had stolen his hat once more. Jack the monkey leapt onto the netting that led to the crow's nest and shimmied easily up while Jack the man clambered up with significantly less grace. He snatched at the monkey, grazing the hairs of his tail a few times, but being otherwise unsuccessful. The chase led to the highest yard of the main mast; the highest mast, the monkey twirling around the wooden pole with the hat in his mouth, and the captain precariously balanced, holding on with all his might.  
  
'Monkey, that's my hat, and this would be the third time this week you've done this.' He scolded, exceptionally collected considering the situation, though he knew it was just a monkey, if a parrot could understand orders, then a monkey certainly could. 'Mine. Give it.'  
  
The monkey edged slowly away and held the hat out to the wind, an odd monkey smile on his face to taunt him.  
  
Jack lunged at what he thought to be the most opportune time. He got the hat, but compensated his stability to do so. It seemed almost slow-motion as the world turned over before his eyes, and a moment of vertigo overcame him which certainly didn't help his case. Grabbing at what may or may not have been empty air, he made an attempt to right himself. His fingertips brushed against something cool and metallic and he gabbed on with everything he had. Now having a hold, he let the rest of himself fall from the top yard and grasped with his other hand while still gripping his beloved hat. Brief pain went through his shoulders as his fall was suddenly halted, the strain landing solely on his hands and upper back, and his hat was jarred from his hand only to fall over his face.  
  
'Yes, I'm saved!' He applauded himself quietly, his voice muffled because of the hat. He maneuvered his hat back securely on his head quickly with one hand and looked around carefully for his monkey nemesis. His handhold was a grommet fixed on the sail that was about six inches in diameter. As his fingers began to ache, he came to terms with exactly how far it was to the deck, and how likely it was that he'd be able to hoist himself back up onto the yard almost a foot above his handhold. Well, things weren't that bad. Just hanging around. No worries.  
  
He waited.  
  
'Hang on, cap'n! We're getting a net out!' Called Gibbs, who was the first mate, at least for the time being. When he had more than a handful-and-a- half men, some things might change.  
  
And waited.  
  
'Blimey! That won't do. Get a bigger one, ye dogs!'  
  
... and waited.  
  
Jack paid no attention to the crew a hundred feet below him. He was waiting for something else...  
  
Which came.  
  
The wind came a little stronger and filled the billowing sails. He swung forward, towards the sail while at the same time trying to twist to have his back to it. Such a twist caused him to loose his grip sooner than he had anticipated, and he fell no less than fifty feet before he got his desire.  
  
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew on deck watched in horror as Jack slipped and fell, with only the unforgiving deck below him.  
  
No, not only the deck...  
  
His swing towards the outward-billowed sail had been partially successful. The way the sails were filled, Jack contacted the canvas and slid down, slowing his fall somewhat, and letting him have more control over how he'd.. get to the deck. He whizzed down the remaining thirty feet of canvas sail and realized that he wouldn't be slow enough.  
  
Ah, well. The sails too many holes, one more wouldn't be noticed.  
  
In a moment of desperation, he tore his dagger from his boot and rammed it into the sail. He winced at the harsh scream of his blade against the canvas, and to his ears it was only his ship crying in pain. But it did the trick, and he slowed enough to remain more or less unhurt once he reached the bottom yard and fell a further twenty uncontrollable feet.  
  
The crew, in their panic, saw little of their captain's life-saving action, and all stared solemnly at the motionless Jack prone on the deck before them. Much to their shock, he sat right up, brushed off his knickerbockers and examined the state of his hat.  
  
'Captain!' Cried Gibbs, relieved, though oddly reluctant to go forward.  
  
'Yes?'  
  
'Yer alright?'  
  
'Of course I am.' Jack said as though he were talking to Cotton's parrot, or his alter-monkey self.  
  
'It's a miracle worth tellin' stories about...' Gibbs stated with awe, and scratched his head as he looked up at the top yard of the highest mast.  
  
'That it is,' Jack said, standing and putting an arm around his first mate's shoulders. He knew it, they didn't even notice the new hole. Which was kind of sad. 'And I'll be needin' a bit 'o twine so that Monkey can't take my hat again. Not easily, anyway.' 


	2. Show Boat

Today's special, boys and girls (and lads and lasses), is Norrington! Poor guy. He really was only doing his job. He had good reasons for wanting to kill thieving murderous pirates; they're thieving and murderous, and they're pirates. I mean, in his place, what would you do? If pirates had been gunning, thieving and murdering the people where you lived, you'd have a disinclination towards them, too.  
  
I really do kinda feel sorry for him. He wasn't the bad-guy, really. He just fancied Elizabeth and felt that murderers should die. Didn't get the girl, didn't get to kill the pirate. He was a pretty good sport, in my opinion.  
  
2 Show Boat  
  
'Drink up me 'arties, yo ho. La la, la la...' Jack sang to himself as he manned the helm, flipping the wheel back and forth quickly enough that it did nothing to affect the course of the ship, he was simply enjoying himself. The elation of finally having his ship back still had not worn off, and it had been a little more than six months. When he really thought about it, he was always happy and perfectly content when at the helm, his lovely ship all his, and no one but he had any say about happenings on board. Of course, he did take suggestions, and considered them, but he had the final say. It wasn't so much a power issue so much that the ship was HIS and the crew was HIS.  
  
And the hat was HIS too.  
  
They were his own, and he was delighted more than anything to have them all again.  
  
'Sail, ho!' Came a cry further to the bow. Jack's reaction was flurried and immediate. He whirled to grab his spyglass and stuck a belaying pin between the rungs of the wheel and into a little hole in the backing to keep the ship on course while he was temporarily away.  
  
Scampering down the stairs from the quarterdeck, he strode across the deck towards the shouted voice.  
  
'Just there, sir,' Said the crewman while pointing, a smile on his face. 'They's all lubbers, too, just a passenger ship.'  
  
'Aye,' Jack said, slightly distracted as he peered through the spyglass. 'And they no doubt have some fine booty, too.' Jack mused through the spyglass a moment longer before casting it aside and making his way back to the helm. The crewman caught the spyglass after fumbling with it, but steadied and followed the captain up to the quarterdeck to put it back.  
  
Jack removed the belaying pin from the helm and took her up again. He whistled sharply though his teeth to get the attention of the crew. 'Alright, me hearties! Reef the sails and prep the lines. There'll be a swaging today!'  
  
A cheer came up from the crew and all set into motion.  
  
First good loot of the season, Jack figured, but a little light went off in his head telling him to quit before he got ahead or behind, in case their chase was more than it appeared.  
  
*  
  
Commodore Norrington looked out the window from his quarters. Lately, there had been a rise in the number of ship robberies, and though there were no reports of black-sailed ships, or indeed, any confirmation of pirates at all, he was certain that the scoundrel Jack Sparrow had much to do with it. Presenting the situation to Governor Weatherby Swann, he also presented the idea of setting up a ship for the sole purpose of getting to the bottom of the robberies. Rather a good idea, actually. The ship looked just like a transport, like the ones that passed in and out of many exotic ports to get people around. Many aboard such ships weren't sailors of any kind, and were ideal targets for pirates and other such riff-raff.  
  
"Show Boat" they had called her, but only in talk, for if the name was painted on the hull, it would probably be a total giveaway. The name on the hull was "Daystar", a name that screamed for thugs to come and get it.  
  
'Commodore, sir!' Said a voice from the other side of the door, which was followed by raucous knocking. 'A mast on the horizon! And, blimey, it's her! It's the black-sailed ship!'  
  
Immediately, Norrington dashed from his quarters and swept out onto deck. It didn't take long to spot the other ship looming on the horizon. His heart raced at the sight. This may be it, he thought. The day were the sad (but oddly elusive) excuse for a pirate would be shown the gallows for the last time. 'Right, men! Positions. We get one shot at this, and we WILL get it right. Make us look as helpless as possible without making us look suspicious.' Norrington turned and went back into his quarters, leaving a young, and rather inexperienced-looking fellow at the helm. There would be no William or Elizabeth to halt justice this time.  
  
*  
  
'Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'll be your captain for a short portion of your voyage, long enough to take all you have to offer.' Jack stood on the rail on the larboard side of the Black Pearl which was keel to keel with a funny little boat called the "Daystar". He steadied himself with a rope dangling from a yard, having made sure that it was secure beforehand, as gangplanks were slammed into place. He was the first to make his way across, as was the norm, and selected crewmembers followed soon after with cocky grins and cocked pistols.  
  
''Allo, miss...' Jack sauntered up to a younger woman who tickled his fancy, and looked her up and down, though mostly down. She flinched and turned away turning quite red. 'Now, now, milady. I don't want much from you, just simple...' Jack trailed off when he heard a series of loud splashes; the gangplanks had been heaved into the water. 'Rats, rats.' He muttered, and turned to face the interrupter.  
  
'Figures it would be you of all people who'd fall for this,' Stated commodore Norrington, looking rather amused.  
  
'I knew it,' Jack said accusingly. 'But, sadly for you, this will always-'  
  
'-be remembered as the day... yes, hollow words, mister Sparrow.'  
  
'But they weren't the last time. And it was remembered as the day you almost caught me, eh? Now Monkey!' Jack cried, and threw a hand towards the side his ship was on. Nothing significant happened. 'Now! Monkey! Monkey?'  
  
Norrington sniggered. 'That's it? You're relying on a monkey for an escape? I didn't think that even you were so-' Norrington stopped dead in mid- sentence, and put a hand to the back of his head where something like thick, damp goo had struck him.  
  
'Ooh,' Jack winced. 'I think that was actually aimed at me.'  
  
'Eeuch!' Norrington shouted with disgust, as his hand came away stuck with monkey dung.  
  
'But thanks anyway, Jack,' Said Jack. He decided that, with even Norrington's crew laughing despite their loyalties, it was a good time to make a getaway. The distraction allowed the few men of Jack's onboard the Daystar to leap across the eight foot gap between the ships.  
  
Jack felt that just jumping away would not be right for his idiom, and he should escape more dramatically to further impress his escape. Though rather wary of anything that would lead to heights, now, he wrapped a halyard tether around his hand securely anyway, and sliced cleanly through where it was secured to the deck with his saber.  
  
Again, nothing significant happened.  
  
The halyard had no current counterweight, and was useless for doing anything but hanging there and waiting to be used. 'Blast! Bugger this!' He ran to the edge and the railing, suddenly changing his mind about his idiom and would be happy to just get to his ship without anything else... significant happening.  
  
'Agh!' Norrington exclaimed, severely frustrated. 'Do whatever it takes to stop him!' He couldn't let him get away again. This would be the fourth time the pirate had thwarted him, and it didn't seem right. He wasn't even that good of a pirate, and still he managed to slide out of the grasp of anyone who wanted to squeeze him too tightly.  
  
There was a thud as Jack contacted with the hull of his ship. He was only half on, though, hugging the rail with his feet dangling towards the sea. The Pearl began to move away...  
  
Well, if he couldn't hang him... Norrington pulled out his pistol and leveled it carefully. He had no idea why exactly the governor's daughter and her blacksmith friend wished that Norrington spare the life of the ruffian, and he wouldn't no matter how many times it was explained to him. A lifetime of crime couldn't be absolved with a few good deeds.  
  
There were several sounds almost at once just then; the loud boom of the pistol going off, shouts of 'Cap'n!' from the Black Pearl's crew, the splinter of wood, a cut-off cry, and an untidy splash.  
  
'Huzzah!' Cheered Norrington to himself. That was that, then. The day Captain Jack Sparrow ALMOST got away. Once less despicable pirate...  
  
Followed by a great deal of other pirates that streamed across from the Pearl.  
  
'He killed the captain!'  
  
'Get 'em!'  
  
Meanwhile, on the starboard side of the ship, Jack came to the surface spluttering, and cursing. 'Bloody... Could've killed me...' 


	3. A Short Note on the Panoply of a Pirate

Sorry, I've been having some innuendo moments (extended over several chapters) but it was all in good fun. We can't just have the plot be introduced BOOM like that, now can we? Our good fellows have been up to more than nothing, now, and I wanted to give the possibility of a Commodore Norrington side story. I call it "The Mini Adventure of Commodore Norrington". Isn't that spiffy? Well, at the end of this chapter, the plot is finally mentioned.  
  
3 A Short Note on the Panoply of a Pirate  
  
Feet on the table in the room, Jack examined his plunder. Once he saw a ship to loot, it would be looted. At the combined force of sword- and gun- point, he had swaged Norrington for all he was worth. Jack was pleased that, when he finally managed to haul himself back on to the deck of his ship, his crew had swarmed the Daystar and had detained all of the men aboard.  
  
As they were deciding exactly how to avenge their captain, the said captain then strolled up behind them and asked how things were coming. Norrington's reaction was absolutely priceless, and the look on his face was one that Jack would never forget. The fellow had gone white as a sheet and just stared with deer-eyes, mouth slightly open.  
  
'I shot you!' He protested in disbelief.  
  
'No,' Jack had replied, fingering the tear on the shoulder of his shirt where the bullet had grazed him. 'You damn well could have, though.'  
  
As Norrington struggled with several long vowel sounds, Jack wrung out the dangling bit of the cloth around his waist and emptied his scabbard of water. Jack had swum under the keel of his ship after going under, because Norrington kept shooting at him. The fellow seemed to have "trigger-happy" engraved in his personality- or at least, "kill pirate now", but probably just "die Jack Sparrow".  
  
So there Jack sat, slowly drying and crusting over with an invisible layer of salt. He was used to it, though, for he certainly had fallen into the water enough. After about an hour, most of the water had dried, and he flaked white, powdery salt for the rest of the day. His shirt would get all hard, like it had been starched (though it wouldn't be any whiter), salt in his boots would be gritty, and he'd have to tend to his sword again so it wouldn't rust, because, he thought firmly to himself, it really was a crummy sword. But his saber had got him through every ordeal in good shape, and his clothes were that of a pirate.  
  
And, contrary to popular belief, the majority of the clothes weren't just to..... distinguish themselves from, well, everyone else. They were right perfect for sailing, they just weren't as stuffy as the naval uniforms that other oft-sea goers used. The bandana, as well as being rather fashionable in his humble opinion (alright, perhaps not that humble.....), kept hair from blowing into one's face. Those in the navy tended to tie hair back or cut it short, but why hide so many years of growing power behind ones head, or even more unspeakable, why would one cut it off entirely? Also, since one tended to perspire in the humid sea weather, it made certain that sweat stung no one's eyes, at least, no one who was wearing a bandana properly. The belt has very obvious uses, aside from those the common folk of the navy used. Uses such as whacking around pesky seagulls to fend off cabin fever. As a plus, it held up his sword.  
  
Cummerbunds were an option, and though many of his..... profession chose to wear such things, he found that he couldn't really think of any other cummerbund uses other than "Oi, I got's me a pretty silk thing that goes 'round me middle and does nothing but look pretty.", but he tended to wear half of a bed sheet tied around his waist underneath his belt. He couldn't recall where he got it anymore, but he felt strangely cold without it on. Occasionally he mused, while fiddling with the frayed edges, about getting another for it was not half a sheet anymore, it was about a third of one.  
  
Then of course, there was the hat, who had a sole, but very important purpose; to make him look cool. Oh, well, maybe it kept the sun out of his eyes, too, and the rain, but hats generally don't stand up too well when it comes to wind. Hats like the wind, or rather they like the wind better than his head.  
  
White shirts were common, but like everything, except the navy of course, they came in all sorts of colours. White was popular because white goes with everything. That is, until they go off-white, and then grayish, and then a shade of brown that he couldn't quite put a name to, though BO was the first thing to cross his mind when he saw that particular colour. And then one gets a new shirt. The poofier the better, as, one doesn't want anything clingy in humidity. The two properties simply do not mix.  
  
Boots were always the best addition other than the hat, the classic puss-in- boots boots with the knees folded down over the shins. This had a purpose, like all real clothing; it kept out water much better. No matter what the material or colour (except perhaps pink), good suede, leather, or sometimes tarpaulin oiled boots were a necessity. He couldn't quite explain how the folded down knees kept more stuff out, maybe it had something to do with the way the material changed angles..... alright, he just didn't really care, all he cared was that it worked, and, once more, that it made him look good.  
  
To finish the appearance, black tights were appealing. And why not? A man can show of his goods if he wants to.  
  
Excellent.  
  
Tearing himself away from his thoughts and his loot, he went to oversee the goings-on on deck. Various barrels of food and supplies and alcohol were being rolled to hatches to be lowered into the cargo bay area. About a half a dozen crewmen were working on folding the Daystar's sails to be put away as well.  
  
Once the Daystar, which Jack soon learned was actually called the Show Boat, was under his control, he decided to let the whole crew live to tell a merry tale when they got back to port. If they ever did, of course, for he took absolutely everything they had that wouldn't reveal anything too..... embarrassing, including the sails. The crew wondered what other use the sails could have other than simply leaving the Daystar/Show Boat stranded. It was a fairly uncommon occurrence to steal a ship's sails without good reason.  
  
'Cap'n, er..... why exactly are we keeping these sails?'  
  
Jack gave the crewman a sidelong look and said, 'We have the sails of a standard ship, just like all the other boats in all the other ports.'  
  
The crewman, and the others listening, took a moment to digest this informative hint as they stood like clueless seals before Gibbs finally caught on. 'Ah! If the Pearl wears 'em, she'll be virtually invisible!'  
  
'Aye,' Jack looked up to the mast of the Pearl with a frown. 'But she's so bonny the way she is.' He sighed. 'Once Daystar's out o' sight, wait for the wind to die and we'll put up her sails on the Black Pearl. We're bound for Port Royal.'  
  
The crew went about the business of stashing the booty from the Daystar until it could be properly put with the rest of the Pearl's successful plundering.  
  
Jack stood away from the helm once he reached the top of the quarterdeck, looking it over and thinking about something that obviously wasn't the potential of their next swaging, or the sudden increase in the amount of rum due to their previous one, for he looked upon the helm with a hard-set expression. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders to loosen them a bit, and meandered around the quarterdeck in a somewhat ducky manner. When he stopped, he was at the aft-larboard railing where he saw the sun melting into the ocean in a show of slow fireworks and plays of light. 'William Turner, my friend, what have you been doing?'  
  
He turned and looked down the ship towards the prow and he walked back up to the helm. 'Pearl's missed ye. And she wants her cannon back.' 


	4. Merry Meetings

Now we find out what our good friend William has been up to. Sadly, he hasn't been up to much. He is, after all, a eunuch. Hee hee hee. I'm just kidding. Seriously, he's just been doing life stuff, or so it seems. Hmm. Okay, the plot finally sets into motion in this chapter.

_4 Merry Meetings_

Four hundred and fifty nautical miles away, and a week and a half later, Will Turner was sitting in the lounge with Governor Weatherby Swann, and made marital arrangements. Or, rather, the governor was telling Will what he should do. Will had proposed to Elizabeth three weeks prior, and though everyone had expected it, they were all delighted none the less. Will only half listened to his soon to be father-in-law, only enough to remember the important things when he needed to, but no more. His mind was elsewhere as he looked out the window to the sea. He was thinking of having the wedding on one of the finer ships in the port, and the governor would certainly be more than willing, no doubt, to pay any sum of money to make the wedding perfect.

Elizabeth had also expressed her interest in having the wedding on a ship, though she made a point of saying that it should not be the Commodore's. Elizabeth's heart had always been with the sea, but Wills had only more recently taken a newfound interest in it, and he wasn't sure why but he had odd feelings in the pit of his stomach as he looked out across its surface. It was almost like there was something he should be doing, but wasn't, or something that he should know, but didn't. The mysterious call of the sea was very strong at times, and some nights he sat out for hours on the docks looking up at the sky, and down at its twin in the water, the night seemingly going on forever in all directions, and he was just floating in the stars.

'William? Are you alright?'

'Oh….. oh, yes, sir. I was just….. looking at the docks, to see if there's any ships that strike my fancy.'

'Ah.' Governor Swann mused, almost knowingly. 'Well, you remember what I said, and everything will go fine, no worries.' He smiled, and left Will to his thoughts.

'I'll likely not remember a thing, but alright,' Will said, knowing that the governor didn't hear him, and quiet glad at this fact. The exact date of the wedding was undecided, but it would be confirmed fairly soon, within the next week. Hopefully he would remember what he needed to, but if not, he'd just speak his heart and follow it. Generally it seemed to work before, during peril and catastrophe, so why not for a wedding?

Thins had been going well, and a number of higher-up people in the navy and law enforcement alike had been coming to him for their weapons, and even the most prestigious master-craftsmen in the area came to him to have their tools made. But things had only been going so well because Commodore Norrington had put in a good word for Will whenever he was able. At times, Will felt for the man, who was formerly Elizabeth's fiancée. He was good at heart, and followed his ideals to the letter. Quite formal, respectable, proper….. a good man in almost every way. His problem was that he was almost impersonal in his formalities, and didn't seem to be able to connect to people very well.

There were other people who were good men, however, without having ever put in a good word for anyone, being formal, or proper, and in no account respectable. Will's thoughts had only occasionally drifted to the pirate captain named Jack Sparrow. Only occasionally because there wasn't much to think about when it came to him. Will at no point in time had ever wondered what the buccaneer was doing, because it was obvious what he was doing; buccaneering, and that speaks for itself every time. What Will thought about when Jack came to mind, other than his addled persona, were questions of his ideals. He was a pirate, and as such, a cheater, a liar, a thief, and at times, a murderer (though how can one be a murderer only occasionally?), but even so, he had saved Will's and Elizabeth's lives, among other things, but a part of Will thought that this was only on the account of him doing something for himself, and, perhaps, he needed the two for everything to work out in his favor.

But one never knew with Jack.

Will stood, seeing to morning sun on the brink of the horizon and went to his room to change into his working clothes, for the clothes of an aristocrat would catch fire easily, and he didn't want to ruin them accidentally by any other means. The morning was colder than usual, coming in strong from the north. Once changed, Will made his way out, and started through the streets to the smithy. He pulled his light coat tighter around him, and started thinking again. At times, he felt his own mind was far too busy for anyone's good, but when he was working, most of his thoughts seemed to fall away, and sometimes it was a blessing. This day, he wanted to temporarily forget about the upcoming wedding, whenever it may be, because he wasn't one for public things, and he also wished not to think of Jack and his….. ways again, because chances were good that Will wouldn't see the pirate again.

And then Will saw him.

He wore a black knee-length coat, its broad cuffs folded back almost to his elbows, and boots folded down to his shins in the same manner. His not-quite-white shirt he didn't bother to button up all the way (or maybe past a certain point, there were no buttons to button up), and a bed sheet, or something quite like a bed sheet, was tied unceremoniously around his waist under a worn leather belt and over a navy-coloured waistcoat. He strolled quite leisurely down the street, not seeing or not caring about the odd, and occasionally nervous looks he was receiving from the towns' folk.

His hair was threaded with beads of all sorts, and several braids that had been put through it had long since become dreadlocks, and even some hair that was never in a braid of any sort was in dreadlocks anyway. The rest of his fairly long hair was frizzled and unkempt, but kept out of his eyes by a faintly patterned red bandana. He turned, looking back the way he came, adjusted his three-point felt hat, and tugged up the collar of his coat to fend off the chill early morning breeze. He drew himself up more, and continued on his path, strutting as though he were none other than Captain Jack Sparrow himself, which, in fact, he was.

He looked no different, but then again, it had only been six months. He probably didn't even change or wash his clothes once every six months.

Will was not sure what to think, and he was even less sure of what to do. Surely someone besides Will would recognize him, or at least his way of trade by the way he dressed? Things would not go over very well if someone did. More curious than anything, Will began to follow him. It took Will a while to figure that the other fellow probably didn't know where he was going, because he wandered about as though he had only been given vague directions to his destination. Either that or he wasn't looking for any one place in particular and was simply looking.

And Will wondered, what would he have been looking for in Port Royal? He would have known that if any authorities saw his face there again, it would be the gallows, no questions, so it had to have been important. He pulled out a ragged piece of paper out from where it was tucked into his belt, and then looked to where the governor's house sat further up from where he was; the direction that Will was coming from.

Then Will knew. Jack was recruiting.

And Jack spotted Will.

'Ah, lad.'

'No.'

'No what?'

'I know exactly what you want, and you simply will not get it.' With that, Will chose that he wanted nothing more out of the situation, and he continued on his way.

Jack, however, was insistent on being rather vocal about the situation, and made a point of taking chase, swaggering up beside Will and leaned in so that he seemed to be speaking to Will's chin. 'And how would you know that? Maybe I have something to say that you'll be needing to hear.'

Without breaking stride, Will replied, 'There are very few things that you say which I need to be hearing.'

'Ya-but-'

'No.'

'Just-'

'No.'

'Can-'

'No.'

'Ah! Hear me words, and I'll leave you to your business, that is, if you have no interest in the words I say, but hear them firstly.' Jack spluttered, his hands weaving small, frustrated circles in his manic way.

Will stopped, but said nothing, waiting for the man to go on.

'I'd like to turn out a proposition for you. Have I your ear?'


	5. The Proposal

Woot. This one's fun I think. Not my favorite, though. (Hee! I loved Chocolate! That was a good movie and it has lovely JD in it!) I had this scene planned out and I have it written down already even though it won't come for another few chapters. I have most of the story planned out, and though the scene I wrote up already is pretty good, it isn't my favorite either. I'll tell ya when my fav is.

_5 The Proposal_

'A proposition? You do want something from me. I'll give you nothing, and if you must, steal it from someone else.' Will stated, rather unimpressed, and pressed on through the crowd in the street.

'You don't savvy.' Said Jack rather dully, and startlingly close to Will's ear, though he should have been at least three paces behind due to the masses. 'Tis nothing I can attain through larceny, quite the contrary, I need a good portion of your co-operation. Which I don't seem to be getting. Avast ye, William!'

Will stopped again and decided that he could patronize the pirate, then continue on his way. 'As soon as the words "treasure", "gold", "adventure", "curse", "rum", or "eunuch" leave your mouth, you won't have my ear anymore.'

Jack gave a twitchy sort of smile and tickled the air lightly with the tips of his fingers with delight. The smile quickly vanished, and he snatched the fabric on Will's shoulder. 'This be not the place to tell. Away with me to somewhere more s-s-suitable.' He said, pronouncing the "s" in "suitable" much longer, as though he was searching for the proper word.

'I will do no such thing, unless there is at least a third party present with us.'

Jack tsked impatiently and pulled more forcefully at Will's sleeve. 'I give you my word that this is in your best interest. Come, come, we will not be entirely alone together at any given time per se, and I'll not try anything if you don't.'

Will hesitated a moment. Jack was far from being an un-hasty man, but he wasn't one to take on such unusual urgency as this. Will gave in, and gestured for Jack to lead on. Will noticed that Jack did not carry his sword and scabbard at his side and his pistol was not obviously visible, which was also quite unheard-of from him, though Will had no doubts that Jack had a dagger hidden in his boot. 'Am I to know where you are taking me? I was on my way home when you made yourself noticed. Elizabeth is expecting me…..'

'Ah, I wondered when you'd mention the lass. She is well, yes?'

'Not that it is your business, or anything.'

'Right.' Jack said with a firm nod.

The two walked without passing any more words between them for several minutes, and the silence between them made Will feel oddly awkward. '….. Yes, she is well. And how is your….. ship?'

'In less than two pieces, thus far. It took three agonizing fortnights to bung those bloody holes compliments of your wonderful Commodore Norrington from the Pearl's go with his ship back with Barbossa and all that, not that you care, or anything.'

'I don't.'

'You should, though…..' Mused Jack. He scanned the shops and pubs and tills across the street, and cut suddenly across Will's own path at a near-right angle, and Will had to step back quickly or risk making harsh physical contact with the odorous pirate. Jack twisted to look sidelong at Will as he strode forward, and smiled again. 'It's in your best interest.'

As Will trailed almost unwillingly behind, almost because a part of him was intrigued as to what Jack considered to be in his "best interests", the pair passed into a slightly stagnant tavern and took a table. A well-shaped waitress came to tend their needs, Jack, of course, speaking only to her breasts.

'Two ales and a-'

'I don't want anything,' Will interrupted, looking pointedly at Jack.

Jack looked pointedly right back at Will. 'I wasn't getting you anything.' He looked back to the waitresses' bust. 'I suppose you'll have to come back later, love.'

Will was positive that it was good that Jack told her to come back later, because the waitress was beginning to get that telltale scowl that they always did when Jack didn't feel the need to lift his head entirely.

'Now, a man of business you are.' Jack sneaked a peek around the room, including the ceiling in his scrutiny for whatever reason. He leveled his gaze at Will and lowered his voice. 'I have heard naught but hearsay, but I have heard….. rumor in a region of more northern latitude, that a man seeks me ship and crew, or rather, the Black Pearl and her crew. Rumors that give me a certain inkling as to who the fellow is.'

'Does this have a point that includes me?'

'Hold yourself, I do have a point. On a slightly tangent subject, you were told your fathers story. Yes?'

'Yes.'

'Well then you'd also know that he was under the curse when Barbossa sentenced him to the briny deep.'

Will completely forgot to deny Jack his ear with the word "curse", and only stared at the man across from him realizing the implications.

Jack looked through his eyelashes at Will and spoke with considerable mysticism while wearing a quirky elusive smile. Pleased to have Will's rapt attention, he continued. 'Six years it's been since Bootstrap's….. banishment, and, being cursed and all, he'd only have to walk to shore no matter where he ended up, and no doubt he reached surface before our little adventure. And just to be certain you'll come along, waitress, some….. tea for my eunuch friend and a rum for me, thanks. Now, William, I have a date with a cave for some gold and treasure, no doubt. This is usually true anyway, though….. Have I still got your ear, lad?'


	6. Trammel Talk

This one (as the title reveals) is just a chapter to fill up space! Naw, it's got some relevance to it. Will thinks about Jack, and there's some other talk between them and stuff. Enjoy.

_6 Trammel Talk_

Will was quite silent, but still stared in wonderment and disbelief at the pirate's implications. At length, he spoke. 'What do you think his current state is?'

Jack's mouth opened in a rather effective dead-pan look. 'He's alive, I imagine.'

Will sighed and rolled his eyes a little. 'Yes, yes. I guessed that much, what I meant was what do you think he's doing, if you think much at all?'

Jack smiled with the dawning of realization. 'I didn't think you were as stupid as that. As for your question, I'm not really sure what ol' Bootstrap's up to. Out for vengeance, if anything. Won't find much on that boat, though, seeing as the former crew's gone, and there's only about a score of men (and women, too) on me ship. Say….. what are you up to for the rest of your life? I'm a little short of hands.'

'Ah-ha! I knew you'd ask something of me as outrageous as me joining your skeleton crew.'

Jack put a grubby finger in Will's face, looking mildly offended. 'Ain't skeletons, no more.'

'I meant that you don't have many. Isn't that what the metaphorical meaning of "skeleton crew" is?'

Jack sat back. 'Oh. I was taking it literally. My mistake.' Jack paused, and then pouted a little. 'And I never asked you to join….. in actuality.'

'But you implied it. I simply won't do it, even if you ask outright, if you give me gold, or if you beg, though I'd like to see you do that. I have a life that I feel makes it worthwhile to, in fact, live.' Will straightened in his chair, coming across as far more stubborn than usual about this particular subject. He had no intention of leaving, however, but Jacks unique form of small talk was getting on his nerves and he'd probably take to shaking the other man if it came down to it.

'Live without any verve and be bored. Live on risk of death and peril, and only then you really live. No offence, good sir gentleman, but your fine bonny strumpet must be getting antsy by now, unless I am sadly mistaken, for she certainly was spirited. This doesn't seem like you a-tall, because you're too much like Bill. He'd be fighting your way of life tooth and nail were he closer to you.'

'I'll live how I choose. Now, about my father-' Will began, edging closer and closer to sheer exasperation.

'Let me finish,' Jack said hunching a little with his hands up by the side of his head, a quite defensive posture in Will's opinion. He didn't wait for Will's approval, and just went on. 'The you I've seen before would have no troubles with being a pirate. That would be the you that decided I would be best to help you get your lass rescued, the you that was all se to die for her, the you that fought a hefty number of Port Royal's local law enforcement to save my life of all things. It's almost disappointing. I expect you'll hit me now, huh?'

Will considered deeply, wanting to look anywhere except at Jack, but forced himself to do so anyway. He desperately thought of something to say that would stall what was inevitably going to leave his lips. 'I'm not going to hit you. What on earth made you say that?'

'You have a tendency of doing stupid things in awkward circumstances.'

'Only in some people's opinions. Just going and hitting some randomly chosen fellow, that would be stupid. You are random by nature, but not just someone I'd randomly choose for any reason. In short, you deserve a good smacking.'

Jack smiled wryly. 'Only in some people's opinions.'

An uncomfortable silence fell after that. Or, at least, it was uncomfortable in Will's opinion. Jack seemed perfectly content to survey women's bosoms while waiting for the rum he ordered earlier.

A question came to Will, and, as hard as he tried to ignore it, the more louder it shouted at him. Still figuring he should stall any heart-to-heart with Jack, however sure it was to come, he asked, 'Jack, how in heaven's name did you get here without being noticed?'

'Ah,' Jack began. 'Why, with my spectacular brilliance, of course.'

'I'm sure,' Will said with amusement.

'No, really. It was pure genius on my part, and the Pearl's hidden safely among Port Royal's fleet.'

'You really are insane,' Will said with wonder.

'Changed her sails. That's all it took.' Jack explained, deflating slightly upon revealing the simplicity of it. With a thought, he brightened back up again. 'But it was clever.'

'Actually, it is quite clever.' Will said with a slight frown, his brow furrowed. 'I'd say you got the idea from someone else of your crew, but I've met them, and know what they aren't capable of. Getting hold of enough material must have been pricey, though. You must be desperate to have me.'

'Now, don't be so selfish. I've had a spare set of sails for ages, but to get them up means a day without a breath of wind or a port to do so in, and clear sailing afterwards to calibrate them properly. Same deal for getting her natural ones up again. So, yes actually. When will you be ready?'

Will smiled just slightly. He pictured Jack and his measly crew struggling with what were essentially huge bed sheets of canvas, and occasionally, Jack doing so by himself because the others decided it wasn't worth it. Knowing Jack, Will guessed it probably took more than a single windless day.

'What say you to a little roll in the hay?'

Will looked up, startled, and utterly appalled. 'What!'

'What?'

Will flushed a little upon realizing that Jack had, instead, been talking to the waitress who had brought him his rum, his short attention span causing him to speak his mind to the woman's chest. Wills intervention gave the waitress enough time to give Jack an honest smack before going on her way.

'I see your charm has improved,' Will remarked.

Jack took a breath and paused a moment before saying, 'That one I know I didn't deserve. I never said what I meant by "roll in the hay", and she only jumped to incredible conclusions.' He then closed his eyes and nodded to himself.

'But you meant you wanted to have a lie-down with her, right?'

'Yes, but she shouldn't have assumed so. Thinking eager thoughts, she was.'

'Uh-huh. Before anything else happens, and before you say anything else, I'd like a day to myself to decide.' Will said, shaking off all of the unnecessary talk that had gone on before.

'You need a whole day?' Whined Jack.

Will smiled , knowing his next words would aggravate the heck out of Jack. 'At the very least.'

Jack made some small, uncomfortable little noises, looking around the room as though someone there might help him in some way. 'You know, the longer you wait, then the longer it will take.' He said quickly.

'I want at least a day.' Will confirmed for Jack.

'Fine.' Jack huffed and walked out of the tavern, leaving Will to himself.

Will was very strongly inclined to go with him, after all, there was a good chance that he'd finally get to find his father. His hopes for doing so had been dashed for the longest time, for he thought he was dead. Usually that was the case when one is thrown into the sea chained to a cannon. The part in him that wanted nothing to do with Jack and his "adventure" was reminding him that his father was a pirate, and Will would certainly have to come to terms with that if he went. From how Jack spoke about him, Will figured that he and his father had been good friends. The part of him that wanted to have a calm life with Elizabeth didn't want to have such close relations to pirates, and to Jack.

But Jack was a good man. He kept his word, at least when it was important. Though he was a little childish at times, he certainly kept things interesting, and exciting, even if it wasn't intentional in any way. Will thought about his reasons for saving Jack from the scaffold, and also his reasons for hitting him over the head with a bottle.

Thoughts and memories came up all over of Jack just saving Will for no particular reason, and for doing so quite without fuss. He just sort of did it. And he had saved Elizabeth in much the same manner several times before, as well.

Jack was a scoundrel, there was no doubt about that, he was also a criminal, a flirt, a thief, a pirate. But he wasn't evil, not like Barbossa had been. Nor was he cruel, sadistic, malicious, or psychotic. He was simply a pirate. He was greedy, manipulative, and dishonest only to the extent that his victims groaned when they realized they were suckered. He was disreputable, that was all.

From what Will had seen of him, he has good deeds in his repertoire to match the sinful ones, though it probably wasn't done purposefully, and Jack had no scruples for his usual scandalous deeds, but he knew what the limits were.

'Two shillings for the tea and ale.' Said the waitress upon returning.

He had no shame, either.


End file.
